


ɱΔɠᓿε ∂µ ૮ĦΔᓎร

by Baguette_Me_Not



Series: Chaos Magic AU [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: About 2800, Angel!Ladybug, Because it's chaos and I don't know what I'm doing, Chaos Magic AU, Demon!Chat, Demon!QueenBee, Demons & Angels AU, Fantasy AU, Future AU, I like to call this, Kind of childhood AU at the start, Magic AU, Major character death - Freeform, Reincarnation, Various other mythical creatures AU, Witch!Marinette, but I'll try, kind of, my hand slipped, ooc because of different upbringings and species types, so it's all good
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-23 20:02:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20208382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baguette_Me_Not/pseuds/Baguette_Me_Not
Summary: A young witch finds herself swept up in the affairs of demons, a choice of which was made centuries before her birth and irritates her to no bounds.It’s all a bit of chaos, really.





	1. 𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚞𝚎

𝙰𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚜, 

𝚆𝚎 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗… 

𝙰𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚋𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚜, 

𝚆𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚛𝚗. 

𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚍, 𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐. 

~ 𝙳𝚁. 𝙱𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚗 𝚆𝚎𝚒𝚜𝚜

* * *

_ “Nononononono-” _

_ She was his light, his kindling flame. Always holding such a burning passion within those ancient eyes of hers. _

_ And yet, her fire was flickering out. _

_ He screamed her name, again and again as he cradled her dying body within his arms. Tears spilled, a burning acid that ran from his eyes in a seemingly never ending flow. _

_ He’d never cried so feverently before, yet his lady gave him reason to. _

_ She cupped his cheek, the gold of her blood smearing across his cheek as she stared up at him. Looked at him with so much love and trust that, even though he’d never had a heart, he felt something within his chest shatter into a million pieces. _

_ “Don’t cry, mon Chaton.” Her voice was weak, so very, very different from the confidence she usually radiated. “We won. We beat Hawk Moth, didn’t we?” _

_ Hawk Moth. _

_ His father. _

** _ He’d done this-_ **

_ “N-no-,” She choked, grasping at the air despite never having needed oxygen to fill her lungs. “Don’t. I know what you’re thinking and it’s a no. I hate him too, you know... But killing him would be wrong.” _

** _ “H̶̶͙̳̞͖̤e҉̳͕ͅ ̣̟̺̼̗̖̺͢d͏̻͚̙̳̲͓i̜͎̫̳̩͍͢͞d̶̛̮̼̳̳͖̲͈̪̀ ̵̱t̷̹̲̘̮̭̱̪̩̀h̠̜̯͖i̼̘͜͟s͍ ̨̭̹͢t̨҉͚̟̬̙̘͖͔͈o̥̼̥̹͚̝̘͉ ̱̳̤͚̫̹͝͝ỳ̬͓̻o͏̮̳̼͠u͏̧̲-”_ **

_ Despite the situation, she gave him that look of hers, just a little all too knowing with a dash of mischief. “He’s living out his eternal punishment as we speak. He’ll be sorry enough.” _

_ “But he has to pay! He h̡̝̟̯͓͙̟͚͈̹̀ạ̶̰s̷̜͓̤͖̬͢ to. He’s taken-” Too much, way too much. “You from me, My Lady.” _

_ “Hawk Moth had a lot of power, yes. But he never had the power to separate the two of us.” _

_ He stared down at her, nonplussed. “I don’t-” _

_ “You’ll understand. One day. When we meet again.” _

_ “...Meet again? You’re- you’re talking about reincarnation.” The look on her face only confirmed his suspicions. “But you won't be the same. Reincarnations are never the same. I want _ ** _you_ ** _ , My Lady. I need you! I can’t- I can’t- I can’t do this without you!” _

_ Her smile dimmed a little, though her gaze didn’t waver. “No, they won’t be me.” _

_ It was then when the dam completely broke, tears crashing down in a tidal wave as his form flickered completely to a void black, a colour so dark and empty that if anyone were to bare witness, they’d be overwhelmed by grief and despair. _

_ “I need you, I need you, please, please-” _

_ Her bright light dipped, dimming bit by bit as her eyelids drooped drowsily, and the hand that had been gently caressing his cheek fell limp at her side. “M’sorry, Chat.” _

_ “Ladybug?” His voice was hesitant, a gentle whisper in the wind, the quiet before the storm. “Ladybug? _ ** _L̨̢̠̗̯à̤̪̗d̶̪̺͉̣ͅy̝̳̲̞̬̦͍b̶̛̝̩͚̩̩̕u̧̢͓̻̬̼g͏̲_ ** _ ?” _

_ Her eyelids shut, those beautiful bluebell irises hidden forever to time as her form started to deteriorate, the world ripping the one thing that mattered most from him from his arms. He watched on, unable to stop her fizzling particles as they drifted off into the distance, as if carried away by some unseen wind. _

_ And as the demon screamed out the angel’s name, again and again and again, he couldn’t help but think about what she’d told him moments before. _

_ Yes, they’d won the war. _

_ But the cost had been greater than he’d ever imagined. _

  



	2. 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟷

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Bee,” He acknowledged, raising a brow. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

To Chat Noir, time was merely a fickle concept. It was flimsy, variable and — in effect — held no claim over him. How could it, for his time was infinite. Ageless. No, time held no meaning to him anymore. Hadn’t done so in a _ very _long time.

He would often let the years sweep over him, one might say he slumbered as time progressed. It was never for long, not really. A decade or two at most. Afterall, he was a known demon and it was only time before another entity was foolish enough to summon him for assistance.

That wasn’t to say he spent all of his days sleeping, however. Far from it. He occasionally found himself wandering upon soil to humour himself and discover the latest ‘gossip’. 

But he still felt detached. Empty.

Her death held a mark upon him for sure, he knew he pictured her face every single time he so much as gazed at an ordinary human. They had been her favourite, she’d loved them in a way that he couldn’t even begin to fathom. So much so that, to his utter chagrin, they had begun to worm their way into his (questionable) heart.

That was why he never spent too long on the surface, despite how much he had once loved to wander its lands. Of course, he couldn’t _ not _ go. It wasn’t as if he had much of a choice. He needed to cause havoc. Demony things. You know the drill.

Besides, there was still _ some _ fun to be had. From time to time there was the occasional invention that he couldn’t help but be awed from. Oh, and don’t get him started on how far witches were coming with their magic. Though, as intriguing as there spells may have been, there was the odd pesky one that put a dampener on his fun. Such as the whole ‘demonic readings’ tracker — a powerful stone infused with an equally, if not more, powerful incantation. Ever since its invention in the early 1900’s, it had been nothing but a pain. As was the demon to blame it all for. Still, he couldn’t help but be the slightest bit sympathetic towards him, getting held hostage by the bindings of a (borderline mad scientist) witch could have hardly been a thrilling experience for _ anyone _. But what was done was done. He and other such demons had to take the utmost care when going about their business.

Or, at least, _ he _ did.

He preferred to stay out of that matters of his kind nowadays. Couldn’t find it in himself to care. The only reason he had a heads up about the tracking spell was from gossip back in their realm that he couldn’t help but overhear.

Truly, having to talk face to face with a demon was _ sickening _. It was best avoided.

Apart from the times he couldn’t.

Like now.

Urgh.

“I was starting to think you had vanished off the face of the Earth, _ Furball _.”

At best, he could have just ignored the confrontation as he did with any other demon.

He had no such luck.

The age old nickname was a dead giveaway to her identity, really. Besides, even if it hadn’t, he would have had to have been a fool not to recognise her trademark yellow and black color scheme. 

Queen Bee. And only those with death wishes ignored her.

“Bee,” He acknowledged, raising a brow. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Need it be said, it was hardly a _ pleasure _. But Bee wanted something of him, obviously. If he just gave it to her, then he could be on his merry way. Doing other things. Important things.

...

Okay, that was kind of debatable. 

“It’s been **y̖̮̰̲͞e̡͖͕a͚͉̣̰͘r̡s̙̭͓͖̖** !” She glared, the atmosphere encompassing them heating up tenfold. It wasn’t even an exaggeration. With her rage, he could literally feel it flaring around her. “Years! And the first thing you say- the first thing I get, it’s- u̴̝̭͎͈r̦̙͢ͅg͉h̴̤̦̭͈!” He was _ pretty _ sure that rock over there had just caught on fire. Oh dear. 

She began to close the distance between the two, coming at him with an accusatory finger that was about millimetres away from jabbing him in the chest. 

“Utterly ridiculous, I tell you. Utterly ridiculous! Aren’t you even going to tell me you missed me? Missed me whilst you ḓ͝ro̝̦̝̞̪̲p̺͔̝̖̱͔p͏̪̯͍é̮̖̜̱̪̱̲d̹͖̠͎ ̟͚̹͔̤̝o̶̘̲̗̲f͍͡ ̛̮̰͓̖̜t͔̞͔h͈̮͈͟e̟͙ ̱̦̲ͅͅg͎̺͖͎͇͖͜r̗͎ͅi̴͉̞̠͓ͅd̪̯? Or have you just been ghosting _ me _ this whole time?”

Words that had began to form in his throat died in his tongue. He… he didn’t exactly know how to respond to that. How would anyone, really? It had been long — _ too long _— since they had exchanged words. Back in those days, the pair had been undoubtedly close, especially for demons such as themselves. 

But then the war happened.

The war.

**That blasted-**

Breaths. Deep breaths. Yep, he could do that. Didn’t really need to breathe, never _ had _, but they were somewhat comforting. In and out. In and-

Okay, okay, he was there. This was fine. Totally alright.

“I meant to talk,” He spoke at last, a tone so incredibly soft that it was almost a mouse's squeak compared to her vicious buzz. Which was ironic really, seeing he was a cat. “Really, I did… I just never found the-”

“**T̢͙̬̰̗͍i̜̝̠̜̱m̶͙̺͈̜̩̲̝ḛ̳̺̱͕͍̕** ?! Time? Is that what you were going to say?” She scowled. “It’s been one thousand years, Chat Noir! On̵̳͎͎̺̰̞e̮͇̯̰̼̲͕͝ ̥̗̣͖͍͙͢t̠̮̘̘h͚̺̘o҉u҉͈s̨͎̰̤̝̬a̛̗̰̩̘̣̞nd̪͉̦͇͔̖ ͈̣͈͉̫͈ḅ̩̠̠u͖͞m̙͍͉͘b͡l̜̤̘̤̯̗͢i͏̝n͍̭g ̫̣͎̹̠̬y̳̗͇̹̱ea̯̙̦͞r̩͇͈̥̲͖s͎̲̟̳̥! Cities have been destroyed and rebuilt in that time, and yet you can’t even speak to me?! Is _ that _ it?”

“To be fair, you didn’t find the time either…”

He instantly regretted his choice of words.

“I҉̙͔̦͎͔̤͍ ͙̭͢w͔̤̫a̹̣̲̜̫̭s̛ ̞̖͙̩́ͅg̹í̱̦̠̺v̝̠̣͓́ͅi̴̫̝͓n̙̠͔̱g̫͉̫͉̩ ̠̺̹yó̜̣̝ṷ̧̫̖̖̟͉ͅ ̢̠̹͇t͇͍͉̜̤͓͝i͍̞͇̱̦m̯e̴͇̰ ̹̮̮̳̘̖t͈̲̜͓͖͡o̻̺̠̱ͅ ̻̲͎͢h̴̞͈̝e͉͍̭͈̱a̷ĺ̹̤̠̣̯̯ͅ,̗̤̭̱̱ ̭̖̠͚̤͎y̹̼̠͖̯͍o̡̟̮̣̫u ̰̰̹̬mąn̟̲̜̝̻ģ͎̯͖̯̩̝y ̜̹͉a͍l͚͍l̘ḙ̞̠y̫͎̙͜ ̗̜̪̥̣͎͚ć̭̘̮a͇͚t! You were hurting—_ I knew that _. So I thought, ‘hey, I’ll just let him come to me when he’s ready and cleared his head a bit’ But you. Never. Did!” And just like that, her voice broke off it’s rapidly increasing crescendo. She looked away. “...You avoided me as if I was like the others.”

“No! No, I-” He fell silent. He had, hadn’t he? He’d avoided her like the plague. Kept his distance from anyone he had ever cared about before just to stop himself from hurting. He’d never intended his absence to hold such an affect on others. But it had, hadn’t it? Queen Bee was here now, all but screeching at him because of what he had done.

He was a fool — had known so for quite a while now. But it was never something he had wanted to openly admit, until now. 

“...Yes,” He conceded. Queen Bee glanced back at him, eyes distinctly wider than before. “I made a mistake. Ignoring you was… well, it was _ wrong _.” He snorted, the humourless kind. “And not in the demon way. I just…” Urgh, how to describe it? “I just don’t really want to care anymore.”

Because it hurts, was the silent takeaway. Caring was something _ she _had taught him. Them both, actually. She made him realise that despite being a demon, he didn’t have to be cold. Emotionless. Alone.

But maybe she was wrong. 

Maybe he really was-

“You’re not the only one that her death hurt, you understand?” Chat startled. What was she…? “She meant something to me too. But I knew her enough to know this is not what she would have wanted.”

“I don’t-”

Bee huffed. “You moping around like an idiot. Pull yourself together and move on with life.”

Chat bristled, her words slicing through him like butter through a knife. “E̥̥̠̥͎͎x̨̫̯̣͍͖̯̲c̷͙u̞̗̤̕ͅse̛̟̮͍̤̖͇͓ ͘m̹̘͈͖͖̘̰͢ȩ͚̣͎̣ͅͅ?” He had _ every right _ to miss her! Did she not see that? “I don’t see you being _ in love _ with someone, only to have them r̶̲i̯͎̘̖̗̬p̤p̹̮͜e̳̼͡d͓̪ ̳͎a̹̳̳̳̲w̘a͉͕͔̙͝y̡̜̺̮̩̲̘̝ by your so called ‘father’ of all things. I’ve been trying, okay?! Trying oh so hard to move on because — you’re right — it has been a thousand years! But I can’t! I just can’t! I can’t accept that she’s…” _ gone _.

“But she’s not.”

Seriously? “If you’re about to say she’s with us in our hearts or any of that kind of beeswax-”

“You know I’m not about any of that kind of stuff.” Sigh. “Look, I didn’t come here for a pep talk, though,” She gave him a look. “That’s apparently what I’ve been doing. Ladybug, she’s back.”

…

“What?” A strangled sound escaped him. He shook his head. No. This was just... no. “Don’t toy with me like that. She can’t be.”

“You’re right there. And- urgh. Don’t look at me like _ that _ . You said it yourself. But it’s whatever that reincarnation thingie is. Her soul is present on Earth again. Honestly, I thought she could have done better than some _ witch _. But there you have it.”

“She’s-”

“Hmm, guess I was right. You really have dropped off the grid. At least you have _ me _to tell you these things.”

He could hardly concentrate on her words, them becoming muffled by some kind of metaphorical cotton rammed in his ears. This was… how? He had given up hope on her return centuries ago. Occasionally, the Bug could be wrong. It wasn’t anything new. But apparently she was now back? Reincarnated? 

Alive?

And he hadn’t even been aware of it?

Was he that out of the loop?

“I need to see her.” It was imperative. He _had_ to see her (Him? Them? Whatever they were now.) Ladybug had asked has asked it of him. Her dying wish no less! The least he could do was respect that and watch over her. He _owed _her. Owed her more than he could give.

“Obviously. That’s why I informed you — _ wait _, where do you think you’re going?”

Wasn’t it clear? 

“To find Ladybug.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I think I̛̺̩͙ ̭͓̙̯̟͍̞́a͕̞̤̲̬̪͜m̶͇̝̬͙̫.”

Queen Bee rolled her eyes as if he hadn’t just used a tone cold enough to render a human into a shivering mess. But that was a demon for you.

“No, Furball. You’ve waited a thousand years. I’m sure a couple of hours extra won’t do either of you any harm.”

Twitch.

“Why would I need to wait when I can speak to her right now?”

Her lips quirked in a way that couldn’t be mistaken for anything else other than smug. It was an expression she had adopted many a time before and, suffice to say, he hadn’t missed it.

“Because.” She leaned forward, her upturned nose only a hair’s breadth from him. Chat almost choked at her overpowering scent. “Only I know where she is.”

“Then tell me, Buzzbreath.” His eyes narrowed. “That is… unless you don’t plan on it. In which case, I’ll locate her myself.”

Chat spun on his heel and managed all of one measly step before Bee lunged for his arm.

“Never said I wouldn’t tell you.” She held out her opposite hand as if inspecting her nails (though if he knew her as he did, there probably wasn’t a single chip in them.) “I just need a little something in return.”

He mentally chided himself. Of course she hadn’t come here to give him a freebie (or free_ bee. _Heh.) They operated — for the most part — on deals. Delivering information as important as this would be so one sided she would hardly be able to sit with it. He’d need to complete his end of the bargain.

An elongated sigh erupted from his throat. “Fine, Bee. What do you want and — before you ask — if I don’t like it, I’m locating her myself.”

“_ Puh _-lease. It’s hardly anything on your part.” She realesed grip on him, much to his utter relief. Those nails of hers might as well have been talons. “I was planning on causing a little chaos up above. What do you say to an impromptu shopping trip?” 

He blinked. That was… awfully in his favour. He had almost been expecting her to demand personal information of him.

But, hey. He wasn’t complaining.

“So, is that a yes?” Bee pressed, “Or are you making that owlish expression for no reason?”

“_ What? _ I’m not-” He caught himself. “Yeah. It’s a yes.”

Chat could have sworn that her smile morphed into something a little more genuine, if only for the better part of a second. Blink, and it was back to her victorious smirk.

“Of course it was.”

* * *

Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Her name was Marinette Dupain-Cheng. To speak the truth, he hadn’t exactly known what to expect. Perhaps he may have silently been hoping she would be called Ladybug again. Yet, thinking back, the mere thought should have been preposterous. Who names a child after an insect of all things?

It was best that she had this name. Marinette. The more he dwelled on it, rolled it over his tongue, he couldn’t help but find the word grow on him. It _ was _a rather pretty name, no use denying it.

It just wasn’t Ladybug.

The name had been given to him in the aftermath of his and Bee’s ‘impromptu shopping trip.’ Needless to say, the pair had never actually gone shopping (excluding the classy pair of shades he’d managed to snag. What? They were just too good to be left lying there.) What they had in fact done was meddle with some stock, mix up the packaging. Nothing too extreme or traceable. Had the pair had more energy left from their previous summons, things may have been an entirely different story.

Besides, he still needed to conserve his energy to stay on the plane of life. Expending so much power with so little reserves would not only make him significantly more detectable to witches, he wouldn’t be able to visit his lady.

Not until the next summons.

However long that may be.

Urgh.

He grimaced a tad at the form he had found himself taking, now completely true to his namesake. Smooth skin had sprouted longer, far more fluffy hairs, darker in colour that coated his rather tiny body head to toe bean in their silky sheen. It wasn’t at all what you would call menacing, though for once that wasn’t what he was going for. No, for once he was being cautious.

The word itself was slightly funny, if you asked him. Never in a million years was it something he would describe himself with. Impulsive? Yes. A danger magnet? Absolutely. But here he was, a bundle of fur at the foot of an infant’s cot.

Marinette’s.

He purred contentedly at her side, the soft vibrations of his throat lulling her into a state of near sleep. Purr! How far had he come to lower his dignity so? However, over the past month, it had been discovered during his visits into her family home that this was the way to go about comforting this mini bug.

Sometimes he’d even let her pudgy hands pet him.

Sometimes.

If she was lucky.

(She often was.)

Chat stretched himself out, arching his back in a cat’s closest equivalent to a stretch and yawn. He moved in fluid motion, like liquid through the air as he returned to his original position next to Marinette, nuzzling up against her face with his own. She babbled, made soft noises, but remained stubbornly within her deep slumber, dreaming of who knows what. 

It was a relief, really, that she didn’t call out again whilst sleeping. Last time it had happened, he’d had to scamper off, Marinette’s parents arriving in the room mere seconds later. It was a close call, one of which he’d undoubtedly experience time again and again if he wished for these visits to prevail. Still, it was better than the alternative. If the parents were to ever supposedly discover him, a _ demon _of all things slinking into their daughter’s room at nightfall, well…

He wouldn’t be seeing the girl in a long time for sure. The wards, charms and crosses would make sure of that.

So, perhaps this internal embarrassment was worth it.

Yes.

Of course.

Keeping her quiet was absolutely the only reason he purred for her.

Well, perhaps not.

Perhaps, despite her being in his presence, this young girl — this Marinette — only made him ache for _ her _ more. He thought that if he cared this the girl, it’d somehow fill what was missing from him. Instead, the pain was only reignited, a roaring flame where before it had only kindled. She was oh so close to him, yet always — irritatingly — just out of reach. Marinette could never be _ her _as much as he wished it were true.

Ladybug really was gone.

If not a comfort to Marinette, the purring was certainly a comfort to himself. It served as a distraction from this inner turmoil. Made him believe that for now, whilst he purred for Marinette, whilst she grinned in her sleep, the both of them were okay.

(He wasn’t. But it was always fun to pretend.)

“Don’t worry, little lady,” Chat murmured, though whether they came out in French or in a series of meows, he wasn’t entirely aware. It didn’t matter. She’d get it. Somehow. “I’ll protect you. You’ll be okay with me.”

He’d guard her from Hawkmoth’s devoted followers. So long as he was with her, standing guard in the shadows of the night, not a single malevolent being would lay a finger, claw nor talon on that girl to get to her soul.

No one.

_ Click. Thud. _

He startled, almost jumping out of his skin (quite literally, he might add), before poising himself to attack as the bedroom door slammed shut. Chat hissed, baring his teeth at the attacker, ready any second now to spring at whoever-

Oh.

_ Oh_.

The mother. She was the mother. How had he let himself be caught off guard by her? 

Plan two: make a run for it.

Chat readied himself, a breath away from dashing off up the trapdoor and-

“I don’t think so, _ demon_,” The woman hissed, lacing the words with venom just as another man — larger but by no means more of a threat than her — entered the room from behind. “Stay away from my daughter.”

And just to emphasise this point, she whipped out a bottle of what he guessed to be holy water, with the speed one would use to take out a loaded pistol.

He was a demon, had bared witness to horrors unimaginable to the human mind. Had seen evil in its purest form, and yet...

A small, fairly insignificant part of him couldn’t fight off the urge to squirm before the mother. Was it unreasonable? Of course it was, he was - what? An entity of chaos that wasn’t even bound by a circle as of this moment. That holy water (in — _ a perfume bottle? _) she had pointed at him would give him a nasty burn at most, and even that would heal given a day or two. 

But there was something imposing about how this woman positioned herself as she tried to protect her young against him, _ a fully capable demon _. 

Admirable. Hmmm, yes. Her efforts were admirable, he’d give her that.

“I’ll give it a pass, madame,” He said, knowing fully well this time that he was speaking perfect French. The startled expression from the man — currently in possession of a rolling pin, held like a bat — being all he needed to know that. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Who summoned you to harm her?” The man growled after having regained his composure. Yet, he made no move to get any closer.

Wise choice on his part, any closer and the man should better prepare for a _ cat fight _.

“Summoned me? Pfft, _ relax _ . I’m here of my own accord.” Suffice to say, neither of them relaxed. Oh well. “And — good news to you — I’m not here to harm her either! So, do us both a favour and put those, uh-” Chat glanced at the rolling pin. “ _ Weapons _ away before someone here gets hurt.” 

Grip on the holy water tightened.

Umm.

“I w̝͉͍̪̩o͖͉̻n̰’̘̫t̯ say this again-”

“No.” He glared, giving dagger eyes towards those stormy ones of the mother for so much as daring to interrupt him. She, for one, remained undeterred. Urgh. “No, _ I won’t say this again. _ Stay. Away. From. My daughter.”

_ Pschitt. _

She fired.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What’s this? Two chapters in one! Crazy. Also never happening again. Pffft, what’s a weekly update schedule. 
> 
> Up next: a flashback.

**Author's Note:**

> Oops.


End file.
